Sometimes I think I could speak. Words form in my head but they never make it any further than that. And that's probably for the best.
I'm so used to seeing Logan almost ghost-like…no solidness, just a fading image coming from my faded mind. The image now is solid. I think I've finally sunk into my mind. Gambit's always telling me that it's alright if I do. He can't get to me in my mind, he says, He can only get to Gambit these days. I don't know if that's fair to him, but I can't help but just slip away. We share the same body, the same mind, but we rarely have contact, only when he thinks I'm up to it. He's usually telling me to hide.
I'm not the strong one. I feel so…empty. I can't find where my heart used to be. It's hard to feel anything. I can still feel the touches though, but thank God they've started to seem far away, far away like me. It's the image of Logan touching me, but I know it's not really, it's just Him and I'm tricking myself into believing that it's not. Because I want it to be Logan and not Him.
But he's not acting as the image usually does. The image usually comes after He's left, or when it's gotten so bad I think I just might retreat entirely and never come back. The image kneels next to me, he says things, but the words are usually garbled, and I don't really care. Like watching a television show flicker through because the waves have gotten crossed. I know I've made them up, that this is all in my imagination, but…they're solid now. I can see the surroundings of the mansion and I can understand them like I've never been able to do before. Whenever I tried to think of anything definitive about the mansion or about the X-Men, I always pull up vague images that could belong to anything. I don't know how I'm suddenly able to pull everything up with such clarity.
I feel someone grab me from behind and I know it's Him. I had myself partially convinced by my fantasy that He was really gone. But He wasn't, just playing with me, again. I feel the tide of terror rise and the blackness comes through my vision.
When I wake up the image of Hank is in front of me. I shove at him, trying to get him to go away. I know it's not him. It's the other one. He doesn't come around that often, only when He's hurt me to the point that I don't care if he beats me or rapes me again to try and shut me up, when all I feel is torn and bloody, like any second I will just give up. I scream and I sob until I finally lay quiet, when I can't tell if I'm up or down, until I feel like I'm finally dying. Then the other one comes and patches me up. He gets upset because he has to not have as much fun with me as he likes for a little while. For a week or two I just lie on the hard floor and curse my body for healing, again, instead of just knowing when to quit. There's no escaping.
I'm reaching my limit, like I thought I had countless times before. I shove at him and I expect a hit, that cold voice. The image of Hank just steps away from me. Logan comes into my vision.
"Remy, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you. Are you okay?" He looks worried, but it's just the fantasy. I'm playing games with my own mind, like the games they play aren't enough. I just look at him. I don't want to be drawn in to believing this. But he says my name. I haven't heard my name in so long because He does not call me by it. It's not my name anymore.
"Remy?" I look through him. I don't know who's talking to me. I don't know if it's Him or not. But it can't be him because he never calls me that.
Logan sighs in frustration. "Son of a Bitch." I look at him, waiting for him to say what he needs to say. He's just getting worse and worse, he wants me to break. I want to break just to be done with it.
The image of Logan and Hank both look distressed that I've responded to my name. One of several.
"Remy, why do you answer to that? That's not your name. Remy." He seems to want to bring home that my name is Remy. But only Gambit calls me that. Not Him. He doesn't seem to have anything to say to me so I turn away from him. The images seem to let me get away with behaving like this, I know He never would. I wonder if he's doing something to me right now. I wonder if I'll ever come out from this world this time around.
I feel Gambit lurking around the corners of my mind, but that's not right. He should be out there, with Him. He can't be in here with me. This has never happened before. I feel him touch my mind and he seems genuinely confused. It worries be because if he's lost in here, then there's no way I'm ever getting out. Not that I'd want to.
I'm just thankful when the images leave. I want to be alone in my own fantasy for a while.
Remy's POV as promised.